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Travels With Mother (Part 2)

Mother and I spent a few days in Haddonfield, New Jersey, visiting with friends and relatives on the occasion on her eighty-second birthday. Haddonfield is a wonderful place to visit. Everything is in walking distance. We walked miles seeing all the sights, restaurants, and shops. We took the opportunity to attend a meeting at the Friends Meeting on Sunday. I thought Mother understood how meetings worked. We filed in and took our places in the lovely old meeting house. Mother leaned over to whisper something as soon as we were seated. I gestured there was no talking, so Mother, a staunch Southern Baptist, sat waiting for the services to start. Worshipers sat quietly meditating as Mother looked increasingly puzzled. Finally, she let me know she was ready to leave after about twenty minutes. She had a little difficulty understanding no talking in church. That twenty minutes was the longest I’ve ever known her to go without talking.

After the service, we took a peaceful stroll through a beautiful cemetery. Cemeteries can be so lovely, a place to reflect and spend a little time in meditation. The more we walked, the more Mother admired it. This one looked so good, she decided she might like to be buried there. She stretched out to see if it felt as enticing as it looked. I offered to check on immediate availability, but she decided she’d like to finish out the trip, but she is still considering.

Above see Mother’s original art and link to story she told little girl at tea party.

One afternoon, we walked down to a little tea-room for tea. A grandmother had taken her precious little four-year-old granddaughter there for birthday tea. Mother, the little miss, and her grandmother got into such an animated conversation, we ended up being invited to join them. Mother told the little girl a story from her own childhood and ending up buying the little one a special teacup. We all had a lovely time. We strolled home late in the afternoon full of the unexpected pleasures of the day.

When we got ready to go through security at the airport on the way home, I was chosen for expedited board and told to skip the security line. I explained to the attendant I was traveling with my eighty-two year old mother and couldn’t leave her unattended. Hearing that, Mother immediately switched into her daft mode. “Where are we going? I’m hungry. Where’s my kitty-cat?” Fearing a lengthy exchange with an Alzheimer’s sufferer, the attendant waved both of us on through. All the while, Mother was pulling on my sleeve wanting to know when she could eat and demanding her cat. (She doesn’t have one.) Her ruse worked, but I don’t know if it was worth it since she kept it up for a while since she was having such a good time with it.

I had requested a wheelchair meet us at the gate to get Mother through the airport quickly, not because she’s disabled, except for her extremely short legs. The wheelchair attendant whisked her through in record time. When we got to the gate, Mother gave her a dollar and a heartfelt thank you. I slipped her a five behind Mother’s back. She’d earned it!

It was but I got through it and married an alcoholic, had alcoholic friends, go figure. Thank God for Ala-non.When people ask why I don’t drink, I tell them its because alcohol has caused so much pain in my life and still is. My stepdaughter is in the throws of addiction. It hurts but you just have to let go and let her self-destruct for that is the only way she will ever truly know what drugs can do to destroy a life. Damn it is so hard to watch!

Sounds like good times with your Mom, and she appears to be having a great time also. I thought I should let you know the Tall Tale you requested is awaiting your presence at http://wp.me/p52sKy-gFy (if my link works for you). If not, I suspect you know where to find me, you are a very resourceful individual. Hope to see you there, and feel free to critique. : )

Your mother is the greatest. What fun. I laughed out loud when I saw the picture of her stretching out in the graveyard. I’ll be sure to check out the Youtube videos. My mom wasn’t a Southern Baptist but would probably have fit in. She didn’t understand sitting quietly either. 😀 — Suzanne

Your mother is priceless. I see you come by your sense of humor honestly. I wish I had been out taking a walk the day she was trying out the cemetery for size. What a riot. I tried to thank you for posting at the Senior Salon but I couldn’t open your posts. I don’t know if anyone else had the same problem.